


Dystopia

by seijohs



Category: Panic! at the Disco, The Brobecks, Young Veins
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Universe, Future, Futuristic, M/M, Nevada, Strict, World War III, but without the hunger games part, its hunger games part 2 lbr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-13 23:26:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7142510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seijohs/pseuds/seijohs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 years after World War III, Ryan Ross has reached his full knowledge of the world around him. He knew more than everyone else knew, and would soon learn more. The country of Nevada is growing fast, and nobody knows what's outside its border, nor any history about it, other than the fact that you may never pass curfew. Ryan thinks he can handle danger, but can he take a fall?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dystopia

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone winds up kissing the wrong person goodnight. -Andy Warhol

I heard the bells ring.

That was followed by what sounded like the tap of a microphone, and then a message.

I've heard it before, in fact, I hear it everyday, and it never gets old.

 _"Attention all citizens of Nevada, you will be returning to your homes_ now _. Curfew is in 10 minutes. You know better than to miss it."_

That was followed by a ping, and then silence.

I got up from my seat on the park bench.

I never missed curfew- in fact, I don't think anyone has ever missed curfew- _that  I know of._

They say if you miss curfew, you get carried away to some land beyond our control- seemingly yours as well. I've longed to know where, but I was too scared. They say it could be anywhere- at least- that's what the government says.

The light, ten minute "jingle" (which just consisted of saying _live life better, we got you)_ continued to play as I walked down the street, wrapping myself up with my arms. It was getting cold out. I just wish the president would change the seasons already. The time between autumn and winter seemed to be its very on micro-climate. But the agreement was made to keep changing the seasons after the war. I'm surprised they kept it up, though.

The war...

I was born well after it happened. That was World War III, merely 100 years ago, and nothing has gone wrong since. I often hear fables of what life was like before it, but I can't believe that. I- and those around me- only get what the government decides to teach us. Telling history from before the war was illegal, and most of the survivors were dead already.

I whistled along to the jingle. I was almost home, but as soon as He switched the time of day, the police came out. I couldn't risk it, so I ran.

In less than 3 minutes, I reached my house. I stood near the gates outside of the apartment, waiting for the security guard to come out.

"And you are...?" He appeared from behind the shadows, nearly scaring me every time.

"Ryan. Ryan Ross." I replied, voice shaking a bit. He knew me, but you had to be sure around here. One wrong look and they'll arrest you. 

"And what is your business here?"

"Um, curfew's soon, so I figured I'd better get home..." I moved my gaze from his eyes, trailing to his beige cap. I couldn't look him in the eyes. He might think I was lying.

"And why are you out so late?" He sneered, I shivered.

"Uh, I-I was just sittin' by the park, sir."

"Access granted."

He pulled me closer to check for something. I never knew what, but we were told not to feel violated by these pat-downs.

I couldn't help but feel so, sometimes, but it was okay. It was all okay because He told us it would be.

The guard drew away fast, giving me one last suspicious stare before letting me through.

I walked through the hall, wiping my brow. I think I was sweating.

Everything was beige. But then again, everything's either beige or a dusty looking silver. 

I made my way up two flights of stairs, huffing a bit as I hopped up the last two. I usually never breathe when I climb up steps, this was no exception. I took in a large breath of air, before exhaling slowly. 

I then began to creep along the halls a bit more before reaching my part of the apartment. The door was slightly darker, and I'm surprised we never had police do an investigation of it.

I knocked on the metal door harshly. I heard the turn of a lock and then he door swung open.

I was greeted by my Mother's face.

"Ryan? Now, tell me- what were you doing out there so late?" She worried about in her odd drawl. She says it's Southern, but I don't know where she got it from. Nobody in the country spoke in such a way.

She would often slur her words together. Instead of saying _you all,_ a common phrase here, she says _y'all._

Mother tells me she only been checked once or twice, 'no biggie'.

I usually had no answer...

Suddenly, a piercing call split through the air, and I was immediately dragged into my house- Mother slamming the door behind me.

"Oooooh" She gawked, eyes still wide, "If I hadn't caught ya sooner, you'd've been taken away from me!"

She pulled me close and began stroking my hair, "I can't have my boy taken from me just like that! Wouldn't be fair..." She cooed.

I smiled at the warmth. I hadn't gotten enough even from the heat of running up the stairs.

Just like before, a message came down over head, warning of curfew hour, and how ' _you'd better be in your homes now'._

Mother  backed away, giving me one last kiss on the cheek before ruffling up my hair and turning around. She sent me a glowing smile and I returned one. Then, she made her way back to the sink. Her yellow and white checkered apron matched her dress. I was sure she wore the same dress day by day, but she always chuckled and told me it was different.

I watched her dry her hands on the apron, as she walked to the coffee machine.

"Now Ryan, son, have a seat." She motioned to the wooden chairs tucked under the dining table.

I dragged one away and sat down on it. The comforting, yet again checkered (it was _stylish_ these days, according to Him) pillow made it easy for me to relax in. I awaited her return.

She poured us each a cup of coffee and then sat in the chair across from me, resting her elbow on the yellow-white squared table cloth.

Handing me my cup of coffee, she began to speak.

"So, Ryan..."

I nodded her to go on, eyeing my coffee slowly.

"I suppose it's time for you to... _know_ stuff. You know, being 18 and everything..."

I blinked at her, confused. I thought I knew everything I needed to know, but then again, I suppose there were quite a lot of questions I had.

"Okay. Um, so, you know, every night you have a curfew, I take it that you know that, I take it that you _should._ Do you know what happens... to those who are out after He flips the switches?"

I shook my head, finding some excitement in what her answer could be.

"Well..."

I waited again, staring wide-eyed at Mother. I bet it was something interesting, He was always full of surprises. 

"Mother," I interrupted, "Is this a coming-of-age thing or did you just never tell me?" I asked out of curiosity. I sipped at my coffee, trying to guide the heat off my tongue with the roof of my mouth.

She look up immediately, sucking in her breath.

"Oh god... I'm not supposed to tell you. You know what? Nevermind, I'm sorry. Forget this ever happened." She cradled her head in her hands, taking me by surprise.

"W-wait, w-what? Mother? Please, oh please tell me. I'm responsible! I'm mature enough!" I tried, desiring to know what she was to tell me. The curiosity was eating away at me, even more now that she said I _wasn't_ supposed to know.

She just simply shook her head, hands still covering her face.

"Oh, Mother, please, _please_ don't cry." I said in a hushed tone. She seemed to be shaking gently, and I suddenly felt really bad. My excitement dissolved slowly, guilt waking in its disappearance.

She removed her hands from her face, revealing a tear-free appearance.

"Ryan," She sniffed, "I'm not crying. B-but, I don't think I can bring myself to say _it._ Say what I saw out there."

"Out there?" I asked, questions leading to more.

"Ryan." She straightened up, smoothing out her dress a bit. "It's time to get real with you. I'm not from 'round these parts, and I've seen more than you have. More than _all of us_ have. The only person in Nevada knowin' more about stuff than I, my dear, is your grandpa."

She sniffed again, though her face was now tough and straight.

"G-grandpa?" I whispered.

Nobody has heard of my grandpa since his disappearance over 16 years ago. I thought he had business elsewhere, though the fact that he never returned seemed to prove me wrong.

"Yes, honey. Your grandpa- _my_ father- was taking by the SSPN." She paused, waiting for a reaction I assumed.

"T-the police? They took him?" I looked around, then lowered my voice. "Why? Where?"

Mother sighed and leaned in closer, as if she was hugging me, though I could tell she wasn't intending on doing so.

"Shhh, hun, there're cameras all 'round us. Hush now, child, don't let them hear you."

I tensed up a bit. Cameras were never seen around anymore, only old collectors owned them. After the initial shock faded though, I blushed, wondering where exactly all the cameras were.

"He was taken after curfew. It's what happens here, late on those nights- _these_ nights. Taken for many reasons, though I beg they didn't find out much about him before they- they..."

She stopped abruptly.

"Mother?" I whispered. "Mother? Mother, _please."_

And all too soon, I received my answer. There were some things you shouldn't ask for.

"They _killed_ him." She forced out.

I ripped away from her, staring cruelly.

So many feeling rushed through my head at that moment. I didn't know what to think. I was seized up by my thoughts, the world around me seeming like a big, grey blur.

"Ryan? Now Ryan, boy, I can't be 100% sure they, uh, did that, but-"

"It's okay, _Mom_. I'm just going to go to bed. Goodnight." I stood up, chair scratching the floor. I didn't bother to push it back, then I heard a soft goodnight, and headed for my bedroom door.  
  


**-**


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning to the alarm that rang over the country's intercom.

7am. Every morning. For everyone.

I had school tomorrow. My week long summer break was up, and now it was back to school.

I sat up on my bed, momentarily cherishing the 24 hours I had left.

Then it hit me.

I went to bed on bad terms with my mother.

If she told the police, they'd put me in jail- or even worse, my mother would get mad at me.

Quickly, I changed out of my sleepwear and practically jumped into my normal everyday clothes.

I snatched the glass cup full of drained water off my night stand.

Then, without second thought, I ran downstairs to welcome and apologize to Mother.

I began to cheerfully bid her a good day, hoping that if she _was_  mad at me, that'd brighten her up.

"Mother! G-"

I dropped the cup, as the glass hit the ground and the glass shattered into a trillion pieces, each hitting the ground one by one.

I stood, paralysed, by the sight in front of me- not being able to move, speak, or react.

5 men stood in the kitchen each with heavy armour and loaded with weapons. Each man nearly doubling my mothers height. But my mother no longer stood up right, and for the moment, I feared she'd never stand again.

There she was, doubled over the counter, blood pooling around her mouth and onto the table, then seeping onto the slick tiles of our granite floor. 3 holes the size of quarters were busted into her neck, back, and head, and the blood was still rushing out.

I nearly fainted at the sight, but I still couldn't move. I silently screamed out my mother's name, crying out vulgar phrases. But nobody could hear me.

To further push my fear, one of the men dressed in black turned around. The immediate response for me was to find my body and fall backwards onto the ground, as the other 4 men then turned around and aimed their guns at me, just as the other.

My mouth hung open, and I wisely chose not to speak. Out of fear or panic, I did not know.

"Ryan." One of the men said.

I swallowed so loudly they could all likely hear me.

I stuttered out a question.

"H-how do you know my name?" I asked timidly.

One of the other men replied this time, in a deep, booming voice.

"There will be no questions. You are to come with us, and you will not speak until we ask you to. Clear?"

I nearly asked another question, though I bit back my tongue. 

"Clear." I replied, shivering.

-

I was pulled out of my house, blind folded, then thrown in the back of what I assumed was a van along with my mother's dead body.

For some reason, this isn't how I wanted my Sunday to go.

I was getting over the initial shock- finding my sense. And that's where I realized that my mother was dead.

I wouldn't ever hear her bubbly voice, or watch her hop around the kitchen as she cooked- like it was her favourite thing on earth.

She would never hear my apology.

I would never feel her loving hugs ever again, keeping me warm and making me feel safe.

She was dead.

Gone.

Forever.

That's when all the previously dead emotion came flowing into my system, clogging every part of my body having anything to do wit logic.

I began crying harder than I ever had before- I could feel the warm, salty streams of water sliding down my face and onto my neck.

I began yelling, screaming, kicking- anything I could do to release the pain I was in. But I should've known that was a bad idea.

Just as soon as I began, the vehicle was pulled over onto a curb forcefully, causing me to jolt forwards and my mother's dead body to roll and hit the back seat. The two doors behind me whirred open and I immediately tried to stop all my tears.

"Hey!" He barked, "Shut the fuck up back there, or you're gonna get it."

I whimpered as he slammed the doors shut again and soon began to drive.

I hoped this would be over soon.

But what if it went on forever? What if they were going to dump my mother into a creek and drive off- never stopping to let me out too? And what if-

As far as my questioning took me, I was asleep in under 5 minutes.

-

I woke up slowly, though I didn't bother opening my eyes yet.

I sat a little longer- cherishing the time I had until I had to face the world.

Carefully, I popped upon one eye lid and then the other.

But I had no idea where I was.

When coming to realization that I wasn't at home, I started panicking- deep breathing until I remembered where I was.

So it wasn't  a nightmare.

The doors behind me swung open and large strong hands pulled me out of the vehicle, dragging my mother out with me.

I didn't bother to fight. I was still blindfolded and that wasn't going to do me much good.

Obediently, I followed him.

We set foot onto a clearly tiled floor and my blindfold was ripped off of me, leaving me dazed and confused in the middle of a large, cold room.

It was like a mall without any furniture and shops, but the people were still bustling around.

"Come on, Ross." The man boomed from behind me, taking me by surprise as he clapped two metal circles around my wrists.

I looked back and noticed that my hands were cuffed behind me. He led me up two flights of stairs, as I was still concerned about how cold the metal cuffs were.

"And here-" He motioned around a rather isolated cell, "Is you _new_ home for the next... maybe years until your death." I gasped as he threw me into it, slamming it shut as he laughed heartily.

"Enjoy your stay!"

-

 

" _Psssst. Hey! Are you awake, kid? Wake up!_ "

"Yo!"

The bars of my cell echoed the remaining noises of someone who had banged something against their bars. I awoke with a start.

"Yeah!" I exclaimed, answering within a forceful exhale.

"Oh, you're awake. What're you doing here? How much time do you got left?"

My mind was still fuzzy as if a snowstorm had just blew through it. I didn't know how to answer, so I slowly took my time to repeat each word said to me.

"Um...don't know." I answered simply, shrugging.

He couldn't see me, but I could see his stick-like arms waving around through the bars and into the open passage of the hallway.

It looked rather depressing in here. Everything was beige and silver.

"Is that an 'I don't know' to both?" He asked in his rattly voice. It was extremely shaky- he seemed physically weak.

"Yeah." I paused, then grinned- deciding to try my luck with a more personal question, "What about you?" 

And then he laughed a sad, pathetic laugh. I pictured his face behind the wall- sad as he sucked in his cheeks, shaking his head slowly as he tried to figure out what to say.

I've never seen anyone- rather, _imagined_ someone in such a position. It was the first time I've really seen any of those actions, actually. And yet, I managed to think of it.

"Y'know, kid..."

I heard his voice cracking. I immediately regretted my question, but I'd have to live through it. He already started.

"I'm in here 'cos I said something rude to the... um, _important_ dude upstairs." He paused, as if leaving me to nod and comprehend, "I'll be out tomorrow."

My face lit up immediately, and though I caught his sad tone, he _was_ getting out tomorrow. He sounded like he had been in here forever. I bet he _was._

"You know how they're letting me out tomorrow?" He asked grimly.

I frowned, rather confused. 

"There's only one way they can let you out- and it's through the front door- or... oh! Are you going through the back door instead?" I laughed, trying to be the slightest bit funny. This cell needed a little but of light.

"Nope."

He sucked in a breath so loud that even _I_ heard it.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm being let out of this world. They're chopping my head clean off tomorrow."

And then the world came swirling down and hit me square in the head. It wasn't even my weight to lift, but I felt it. And I felt it hard.

" _What?"_ I whispered, fearful- hoping it was just a joke so I could scold him later about not joking about things like that.

"I told ya already. I made a mistake, and tomorrow, they're gonna saw my head right off. Like wood-  yeah, like I was made of wood. I've been waiting... let's see, 30 years. Finally, the wait is up. Tomorrow is my end, and thank god it is- I don't think I could spend another 24 hours in here without properly decaying away to nothing."

"T-they k- _kill?"_  I couldn't breath, ergo it came out broken. 

"Government could do whatever they want, kid."

We were both silent.

"Hey, you know, you shouldn't be sad. You don't know me. I'm happy about tomorrow, to be completely honest with you. You know- it's a public event. You could come watch if you want. It's like a party. You like parties, right?"

I was shaking, not understanding this at all. Why would he invite me to his _death?_ It was hardly no party. Even worse- what if I ended up like _him._ I was already growing a soft spot for him- I was scared to let him leave. I tend to do that a lot with strangers. One wave. One nod. One chat- then I feel like we're old friends reunited. It's scary and useless.

" _Hey._ " He spoke up again, this time softer.

"Do you want to come, kid?"

I couldn't decide.

I leaned back on the cold concrete wall, glassily staring beyond the next wall, where all I could see was an ocean of grey.

The shuffling in the man's cell resided. He was relaxing now.

"I'll come."

"R-really?"

"Yeah." I nodded affirmatively.

Feet stomped on the ground.

"Boy! I could just hug you right now! I can't see you- b-but let me tell ya! You're the best kid ever, I love ya, son."

I smiled, resting my head on my hands as I rubbed my eyes slowly.

This was gruesome- incorrect, and yet, I said okay to witness his death.

It was his fucking _funeral._

"Um, hey. Sir?"

"Yeah, sonny boy?"

He answered as if he was on top of the world. To be completely honest, I was on the verge of tears.

He reminded me of my grandpa. Like I had given him the best gift he could ask for. But he was asking for me to witness his death- his beheading. I couldn't. I didn't want to go- but I lost my grandpa and I needed someone like him- especially right now.

"Can I... uh, ask a few questions?"

"Fire away."

"When will I leave? Will I die in here?"

It was the only question I had.

"Son-"

"Ryan's fine."

" _Ryan._ What did you do?"

"Me and my mother, we talked about life here and there, basically the system you know. She's dead, and now I'm here."

"Oh. You've got a day to the rest of your life. Sorry- that's a big range but-"

"Will I die in here?" I cut him off.

No reply.

"Will I die in here?" I asked again, quietly this time.

"I-I... I don't know, Ryan." He replied hoarsely.

I definitely needed time to reflect on that one. I was _scared._

"Well... be sure to come tomorrow. Witness this- and son, trust me. You'll be strong."

"Okay." I whispered back.

"Goodnight, Ryan."

"Goodnight."

-


End file.
